


Apple And Leaf

by Elwen_of_the_hidden_valley



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:53:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elwen_of_the_hidden_valley/pseuds/Elwen_of_the_hidden_valley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin wonders off in search of food (what else) as the Fellowship travel through Hollin and, of course, manages to get himself into bother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own the characters of setting of this tale. They belong to JRR Tolkien. The opening lines belong to Shirebound, who provided them as a prompt. This is fanfic so it’s written for fun, not money.

“Did you ever wish you had sisters, Frodo?” Pippin asked sleepily.

“Not really.”

“Brothers?”

“No.” Frodo yawned and burrowed deeper into his bedroll. “Some people don’t mind being all alone sometimes, or even most of the time, Pip. Bilbo is like that. I am, too, I suppose."

“It’s strange to think about,” Pippin mused. “I like knowing that there’s always someone around. I’d hate to find myself alone someplace, without any friends or family.”

“Not much chance of that,” Boromir chuckled as he walked by. “There would be no one for you to talk with.”

“I don’t talk that much, Boromir,” Pippin replied.

“Care to put your money where your mouth is?” Merry instantly piped up. “How long do you think you could go without saying anything at all?”

“Uh oh,” Sam moaned. It was going to be one of those days.

“Now you know I don’t have much money with me, Merry,” Pippin pointed out smugly.

“True, but I happen to know that you still have some Longbottom Leaf at the bottom of your pack.” Merry dropped this little titbit of information into the sleepy pot of silence with all the subtlety of one of Gandalf’s fireworks, and suddenly all three of the other hobbits were wide awake.

“Mr Pippin! You said you didn’t have none left, yesterday!”

Pippin assembled his most mischievous smile. “Well, of course I did. I didn’t want my greedy cousins wasting it. I was saving it to share on a special occasion.”

Frodo folded his arms, giving Pippin a steady blue gaze that would have done Master Elrond proud. “To share?”

Pippin only blinked and tilted his head in a way that always worked with his maiden aunts. “Of course, Frodo.”

Having stirred the pot, Merry simply rolled onto his side and leaned on his elbow, watching the results. The big folk joined him, although a little more surreptitiously, continuing to organise their camp for the day and rolling themselves in blankets. Even Legolas could be seen to smile as his eyes roamed the horizon. 

“I don’t believe you for one moment, Peregrin Took, you little rascal.” Frodo stated firmly, although his lips quirked in the beginnings of a smile at his young cousin’s tactics. He was no maiden aunt and recognised them for what they were. “I believe you were about to share it, just as much as I do that you would be capable of keeping your thoughts and questions to yourself for more than a few hours.”

“Not very convincing, is he cousin?” Merry asked, matching Pippin’s innocent look.

Frodo’s clear gaze fell on him and Merry swallowed hard. “And I suppose you kept the secret this long because you did not want to spoil the surprise? You had no intentions of slipping into Pippin’s pack and taking it for yourself, did you?”

Merry had several years more experience than Pippin and simply went for the truth against Frodo. “I was just biding my time to mention it to him. A little bit of information like that can come in very handy when you want an extra apple after supper.”

Sam’s exclamation of, “Mr Merry!” went unheard amongst the general laughter that followed that remark.

“Merry! You scoundrel!” Frodo tried to bring his laughter under control, wiping away tears of mirth as he turned back to Pippin, who was trying to bury himself back in his blankets and pretend to have fallen asleep.

“Oh no you don’t Pip.” Frodo announced, throwing back his cousin’s blankets. “I think this little deception needs some punishment. What say the rest of you?” He glanced about the camp, taking in the big folk as well. After all, Legolas and Boromir were the only ones who did not smoke.

“I believe I will stay out of this,” Aragorn announced quickly. 

“I am sure that we could find a fitting punishment,” Gimli added with a chuckle.

Gandalf lowered himself onto a nearby boulder. “I think this is a decision that should be made by the Ringbearer.”

Frodo’s eyes widened and he glared at the old wizard. Gandalf only smiled in return, a twinkle very evident in his gentle eyes. Now Frodo found all eyes focussed on him. For a moment the Ring weighed heavily on its chain but he shook himself free. His first decision as Ringbearer could have been more difficult. 

“Very well. Peregrin Took. You said that you would be able to keep silent if you needed to. From now and throughout our entire walk tonight, if you can resist making conversation until we bed down for the day you can keep your Longbottom Leaf. If, however, you let your chatterbox nature get the better of you, you will share it with us all at breakfast tomorrow night.” Frodo glanced about the Fellowship and received a round of agreement. “Well, Pip? I will let you answer this question.”

“Pah! Easy,” Pippin replied confidently. “I only talk to keep your spirits up, you know. I can keep quiet for an age if I want to.”

Frodo met his gaze squarely. “Very well, Pippin. We are all witness to this agreement. No talking from now.”

“And now we have that settled, can we all please get some sleep?” Gandalf asked, with just a hint of an order in his voice.

If there was one thing that they had all learned to do on this quest so far it was to obey the wizard when he got that particular edge in his voice, and the hobbits began to snuggle down in their blankets.


	2. Chapter 2

_With many thanks to Febobe for her insights into Pippin’s thought processes. Most particularly with regard to snuffboxes._

 

Pippin sighed, flinching as the slight movement produced a tiny tearing sound above him. Did sighing count as conversation? What constituted, “conversation”? Was talking the same as conversation? Conversation was something that needed more than one person and there was no one else here.

A slight breeze stirred the branches of his tree and Pippin ventured a glance upward as he heard the fabric of his cloak give a little more. He lowered his head quickly as he felt the cloak ride up his neck, threatening to let his head slide through and precipitate a very long drop to the ground.

But for the rustle of the leaves in the ancient apple tree he was suspended in, there was no sound in the empty landscape. In particular, there were no sounds from the little encampment within the tumbled walls of the old farmhouse just over the rise. Pippin’s tummy grumbled loudly but he dare not raise his hand to take a bite from the apple he still clutched firmly.

Bother! If it wasn’t his tongue wasn’t getting him into trouble it was his stomach. 

Pippin had awoken at midday, feeling rather peckish. Boromir was on watch and Pippin smiled as he stood and stretched. There was still plenty of food in their packs but Pip was sensible enough to know that there was little to spare for nibbling. Hollin had once been a kind country however, and when they had settled down for the day in the ruins of the farmhouse, he had noticed the remains of an ancient and overgrown orchard beyond the hill. 

At this time of year it was unlikely that any apples still clung to the branches but it was worth investigation. Perhaps there would be some windfalls that hadn’t rotted.

Clutching his groin and offering Boromir a pained expression, Pippin gestured beyond the walls. The big man nodded. “Do not go too far, Peregrin,” he murmured softly. Pippin offered a quick nod before disappearing around the corner of the wall. Boromir would be unlikely to keep too close a watch on him, assuming he had gone to answer a call of nature. It was a simple matter for a young hobbit to sneak off on stealthy feet towards the old orchard.

When Pippin had found the one solitary apple, still clinging tenaciously to this ancient tree he had taken it as a sign that it was intended for him. The old, gnarled trunk had been easy to climb and Pippin had just claimed his prize when his foot slipped on a patch of moss. It had taken all his will power not to cry out as he fell, but he had yelped when his cloak, catching on one of the branches, pulled him up short. And so, here he had been dangling, for what seemed like most of the afternoon but had probably only been about half an hour.

He slid his eyes downward, hoping against hope that the ground had miraculously grown closer since he last looked. No. It had not. If he fell from this height he would definitely break something; possibly a lot of somethings. He shuddered.

Surely someone would come to look for him soon. If only to check whether he was ill. He had after all, as far as they were concerned, just gone to relieve himself. Even if he had only been absent for half an hour that should be cause for concern. It would at least trigger worry of a tummy upset. But then . . . Boromir didn’t seem like the sort of person that would consider a tummy upset worthy of worry. He was almost as grim as Strider.

With little else to occupy his mind, Pippin returned to contemplation of the nature of conversation. Was talking the same as conversing? If he talked to himself, and someone else just happened to overhear it, would it constitute a breaking of his promise? If he just happened to call out, “Help,” and someone just “happened” to hear it, it could not be considered a conversation now, could it? 

Pippin mulled on the problem a little longer. He had always been good at bamboozling Sam, and Frodo was soft enough to wheedle around. As for the big folk . . . Pippin had quickly discovered that his diminutive size and huge smile were very effective there, even with Gandalf on occasion. But there was Merry to consider. Merry was another matter completely. A smile would not work there.

Pippin sighed . . . very carefully. It truly wasn’t his fault that things kept happening to him. Well . . . maybe some of it was his fault. But only some . . . or . . . perhaps a bit more than, “some”.

“I’m just naturally inquisitive. It’s my Tookish nature.”

Had he just said that aloud? Maybe he had. He would have to watch that. Pippin was beginning to discover that learning not to talk needed a lot of concentration. 

A slight draft set him swinging lazily too and fro and he risked another glance upward. His cloak seemed to be bearing up for the moment but the shift in balance turned the swinging motion into a slow spin. Pippin hoped the wind would drop again soon, because he wasn’t altogether sure how his stomach would take to the world rolling past him in that manner.

Tree . . . hill . . . sky . . . orchard . . . tree . . . hill . . .

He tried to think of something else. Talking. It was no wonder he was having difficulty learning not to talk, he assured himself. After all, it took children a long time to learn how to talk in the first place. That line of reasoning brought up another idea.

What if it would take him as long to relearn how to talk as it did the first time around? If he didn’t use the ability for some time would he have to start right back at the beginning? When old Rory Brandybuck had been ill a few years ago he had not talked for a long time. And when he started again he used to get all his words muddled up. Maybe that would happen to Pippin if he did not talk for an entire day. What use would he be then?

Rip . . . 

His eyes darted upward as he came to a shuddering stop. His cloak was twisted like a corkscrew above him. There was a moment’s relief as he hung still and then the fabric began to unwrap and he started spinning once more . . . in the opposite direction. 

Tree . . . orchard . . . sky . . . hill . . . tree . . . 

He closed his eyes, and swallowed down a growing queasiness. “Concentrate, Pip.” Now where was he? Oh yes. Practice. He had volunteered to come along on this trip in order to protect his cousin. What if some nasty goblin, or those horrible black riders, came back? If he and Frodo were alone it would be up to Pip to call for help. What would happen if he got his words all muddled up like Rory? It would never do if he forgot the word, “Help”. The rest of the Fellowship were unlikely to come running to the rescue if Pippin stood there yelling, “Apple”, or, “Pipeweed!” or, “Snuffbox!”

He decided he really ought to practice. Just to make sure that he didn’t forget the word. Surely no one could possibly accuse him of losing the wager for such an important matter?

His cloak reached the end of its spin once more and Pippin jolted, dropping another two inches as the fabric ripped a little further and began to unwind again. That was enough for him. Time to practice.

“Help! Help! Help!”

He was rewarded by the sight of a small assortment of figures running towards him from the brow of the hill. Familiar figures . . . then sky . . . orchard . . . tree . . .figures . . . Pippin squeezed his eyes shut again.

Merry’s voice floated up to him first. “Honestly Pip. How ever did you manage that?” 

Pippin hoped he wasn’t expecting an answer just at the moment, because if he opened his mouth now he wasn’t sure that it was words that would come out. He gulped

Rip . . . 

Pippin fell another couple of inches, his stomach arriving just a moment later. He swallowed hard and risked cracking his eyes open just a little. The world was spinning faster now but he managed to spot Legolas stepping nimbly along a branch just below him. Legolas . . . hill . . . sky . . . orchard . . . Legolas . . . 

Rip . . . 

A scream was torn from Pippin as he fell. The scream terminated in a gasp as strong, archer’s arms caught him and swung him against a firm chest. With not a second’s thought he threw his arms about the elf’s neck, clinging like ivy to a tree. With his face buried against Legolas’ neck he did not see the elf’s amused frown as Pippin sobbed, 

“Snuffbox!”


	3. Chapter 3

“Peregrin Took, you really are the most overly inquisitive hobbit I have ever had the misfortune to meet.” Gandalf leaned on his staff, sharp blue eyes locked on the stumbling hobbit.

Pippin felt miserable. As soon as Legolas had set him on the ground he had doubled up and been very, very sick. The only saving grace, as far as he was concerned, was that he managed not to do it all over his elven rescuer.

“You do have an uncanny knack of finding trouble,” Frodo murmured as he wrapped Pippin’s trembling form in a blanket and led him closer to the fire. At least his voice was only vaguely amused, rather than annoyed. 

Sam handed over a cup of tea and Pippin accepted it timidly. “It’s alright, Mr Pippin. Strider made it. Said it would settle your stomach.”

Pippin took a small sip, relieved when he only tasted mint.

“And all for this?” Merry asked, holding out the apple that he had just cut open. Whilst the apple had looked perfect on the outside, at its heart it was black and riddled with tiny maggots.

Sam looked up from where he had settled down to sew the tear in Pippin’s cloak. “I could have told you it were the wrong season for findin’ apples still on the tree.”

Merry grinned at Pippin’s expression of dismay. “But Pippin didn’t tell you about the apple, did he Sam? If he had told you he may have saved himself some discomfort but he may also have had to share it.”

Pippin frowned. This was not fair. He had not even known there was an apple until he had gone to look. He would have shared it. He was almost sure he would have.

“Never mind all that. I think Pip has learned his lesson.” Frodo pushed Pippin down gently onto a log by their small fire. “Are you hurt anywhere?” He frowned when Pippin only shook his head, then light dawned.

“Alright Pip. I declare your punishment cancelled. I want my little chatterbox back.”

“You’ve lost anyway. You called for us, remember?” Merry added, throwing the apple into the fire where it spat and sizzled. Frodo grinned and began to feel along his cousin’s arms, not prepared to accept Pip’s assurance that he was unharmed.

Pippin drew away from his touch and frowned up at Merry. “I did not lose,” he replied indignantly.

The big folk stood back and watched. Intrigued as to how the mischievous Took would wheedle his way out of this one.

Sam merely snorted but Merry was more vocal. “Not lose? Not lose? You were not supposed to talk for all of today. You talked. In fact you talked so loudly that they probably heard you back in the Shire!”

Pippin paused to take a couple of sips of his warm tea before answering. “Exactly. I didn’t talk. I shouted. And I didn’t shout to you, I just happened to yell to myself. It’s not my fault that you happened to overhear me.” He grinned slyly, rather pleased with his reasoning. 

“That’s hair splitting and you know it. It makes no difference what volume you spoke at. You spoke.” Merry replied, folding his arms and sticking out his chin. He was not about to be bested in a verbal tilt with his younger cousin.

Pippin spluttered, adopting his most innocent expression. “I may have spoken but I did not converse. It takes two people to hold a conversation. Unless you count the tree as a person . . . and we all know that trees are not people . . . I was conversing with no-one.”

“What?” Merry replied in shock.

Legolas laughed softly, his gentle voice interjecting. “The agreement was, “If you can resist making conversation until we bed down for the day you can keep your Longbottom Leaf.”. Pippin is correct. He did not make conversation.” 

Pippin glanced up at him in surprise. Legolas had surely heard his silly comment when he caught him in the tree? The elf had been aloof and silent for most of their journey so far and Pippin was taken aback to find this new ally. The elf only smiled at him.

There was a moment of stunned silence, finally broken by Gandalf’s hearty laugh. The rest of the Fellowship was only a heartbeat behind.

“You win, Pippin. You may keep your treasure. You have certainly earned it.” Frodo announced, slapping his young cousin on the back and nearly causing him to spill the remainder of his tea.

Aragorn’s voice drew them all back. “Good. Now that we have made that decision I believe it is Gandalf’s turn to take the watch. There are several more hours to sunset and we all need the sleep.”

 

EPILOGUE

“Well, young hobbits, I can see why you prize this leaf so much. A very smooth smoke.” Gimli took another appreciative draw on his pipe, letting the smoke trickle into his moustache.

Pippin grinned broadly and raised his own pipe in salute as Merry continued his questioning.

“So you were talking out loud so that you would not forget how to?”

“That’s right. We wouldn’t want any harm to come to Frodo, now would we?”

Merry joined Frodo and Sam in shaking his head and drawing in another sip of the mellow smoke.

Legolas watched them all in silence from across the fire, where he sat checking the fletchings on his arrows. He would never understand hobbits. The youngest had spent the best part of a day desperately trying to keep the leaf for himself and yet, as soon as they had finished their meal he had opened the pack and offered it around. Even Gandalf and Aragorn were smoking. There was now no pipeweed left but Pippin seemed not in the least disappointed, in fact he was almost glowing with delight as he watched the blissful looks on his companion’s faces.

A strange people, these halflings. They kept their word as well as any elf and would defend something to the last. But they did it with a merry heart. And they were willing to give up that which they treasured most, in order to bring comfort and pleasure to another. Only now did Legolas truly understand why Elrond had sent the hobbits on this quest.

 

END


End file.
